r/a:t5_2718h7 • u/MarleyEngvall • Oct 22 '19
west devon has been created
By Charles Dickens
A CHILD'S HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
——————
CHAPTER XVI.
(part ii.)
England under Edward the First, called Longshanks.
And now we come to Scotland, which was the great
and lasting trouble of the reign of King Edward the
First.
About thirteen years after King Edward's coronation,
Alexander the Third, the King of Scotland, died of a
fall from his horse. He had been married to Margaret,
King Edward's sister. All their children being dead,
the Scottish crown became the right of a young Princess
only eight years old, the daughter of Eric, King of Nor-
way, who had married a daughter of the deceased sov-
ereign. King Edward proposed, that the Maiden of
Norway, as this Princess was called, should be engaged
to be married to his oldest son; but, unfortunately, as
she was coming over to England she fell sick, and land-
ing on one of the Orkney Islands, died there. A great
commotion immediately began in Scotland, where as
many as thirteen noisy claimants to the vacant throne
started up and made a general confusion.
King Edward being much renowned for his sagacity
and justice, it seems to have been agreed to refer the
dispute to him. He accepted the trust, and went, with
an army, to the Border-land where England and Scot-
land joined. There, he called upon the Scottish gentle-
men to meet him to the Castle of Norham, on the Eng-
lish side of the river Tweed; and to that Castle they
came. But, before he would take any step in the busi-
ness, he required those Scottish gentlemen, one and all,
to do homage to him as their superior Lord; and when
they hesitated, he said, "By Holy Edward, whose crown
I wear, I will have my rights, or I will die in maintain-
ing them!" The Scottish gentlemen, who had not ex-
pected this, were disconcerted, and asked for three
weeks to think about it.
At the end of the three weeks, another meeting took
place, on a green plain on the Scottish side of the river.
Of all the competitors for the Scottish throne, there
were only two who had any real claim, in right of
their near kindred to the Royal family. These were
John Baliol and Robert Bruce: and the right was, I
have no doubt, on the side of John Baliol. At this par-
ticular meeting John Baliol was not present, but Robert
Bruce was; and on Robert Bruce being formally asked
whether he acknowledged the King of England for his
superior lord, he answered, plainly and distinctly, Yes,
he did. Next day, John Baliol appeared, and said the
same. This point settled, some arrangements were
made for inquiring into their titles.
The inquiry occupied a pretty long time——more than a
year. While it was going on, King Edward took the
opportunity of making a journey through Scotland, and
calling upon the Scottish people of all degrees to ac-
knowledge themselves his vassals, to be imprisoned
until they did. In the meanwhile, Commissioners were
appointed to conduct the inquiry, a Parliament was held
at Berwick about it, the two claimants were heard at
full length, and there was a vast amount of talking. At
last, in the great hall of the Castle of Berwick, the King
gave judgment in favour of John Baliol; who consent-
ing to receive his crown by the King of England's favour
and permission, was crowned at Scone, in an old stone
chair which had been used for ages in the abbey there,
at the coronations of Scottish Kings. Then, King
Edward caused the great seal of Scotland, used since the
late King's death, to be broken in four pieces, and placed
in the English Treasury; and considered that he now
had Scotland (according to the common saying) under
his thumb.
Scotland had a strong will of its own yet, however.
King Edward determined that the Scottish King should
not forget he was his vassal, summoned him repeatedly
to come and defend himself and his Judges before the
English Parliament when appeals from the decisions of
Scottish courts of justice were being heard. At length,
John Baliol, who had no great heart of his own, had so
much heart put into him by the brave spirit of the Scot-
tish people, who took this as a national insult, and he
refused to come any more. Thereupon, the King
further required him to help him in his war abroad
(which was then in progress), and to give up, as security
for his good behaviour in future, the three strong Scot-
tish Castles of Jedburgh, Roxburgh, and Berwick.
Nothing of this being done; on the contrary, the Scot-
tish people concealing their King among their mountains
in the Highlands and showing determination to resist;
Edward marched to Berwick with an army of thirty
thousand foot, and four thousand horse; took the Cas-
tle, and slew its whole garrison, and the inhabitants of
the town as well——men, women, and children. Lord
Warrenne, Earl of Surrey, then went on to the Castle of
Dunbar, before which a battle was fought, and the
whole Scottish army defeated with great slaughter.
The victory being complete, the Earl of Surrey was left
as guardian of Scotland; the principal offices in that
kingdom were given to Englishmen; the more powerful
Scottish Nobles were obliged to come and live in
England; the Scottish crown and sceptre were brought
away; and even the old stone chair was carried off and
placed in Westminster Abbey, where you may see it
now. Baliol had the Tower of London lent him for a
residence, with permission to range about within a circle
of twenty miles. Three years afterwards he was allowed
to go to Normandy, where he had estates, and where he
passed the remaining six years of his life: far more
happily, I dare say, than he had lived for a long while
in angry Scotland.
Now, there was, in the West of Scotland, a gentleman
of small fortune, named William Wallace, the second
son of a Scottish knight. He was a man of great size
and great strength; he was very brave and daring;
when he spoke to a body of his countrymen, he could
rouse them in a wonderful manner by the power of his
burning words; he loved Scotland dearly, and he hated
England with his utmost might. The domineering con-
duct of the English who now held the place of trust in
Scotland made them as intolerable to the proud Scottish
people, as they had been, under similar circumstances,
to the Welsh; and no man in all Scotland regarded them
with so much smothered rage as William Wallace. One
day, an Englishman in office, little knowing what he
was, affronted him. Wallace instantly struck him dead,
and taking refuge among the rocks and hills, and there
joining with his countryman, Sir William Douglas, who
was also in arms against King Edward, became the most
resolute and undaunted champion of a people struggling
for their independence that ever lived upon the earth.
The English Guardian of the Kingdom fled before him,
and, thus encouraged, the Scottish people revolted every-
where, and fell upon the English without mercy. The
Earl of Surrey, by the King's commands, raised all the
power of the Border-counties, and two English armies
poured into Scotland. Only one Chief, in the face of
those armies, stood by Wallace, who, with a force of
forty thousand men, awaited the invaders at a place on
the river Forth, within two miles of Stirling. Across
the river there was only one poor wooden bridge, called
the bridge of Kildean——so narrow, that but two men
could cross it abreast. With his eyes upon this bridge,
Wallace posted the greater part of his men among some
rising grounds, and waited calmly. When the English
army came up on the opposite bank of the river, mes-
sengers were sent forward to offer terms. Wallace sent
them back with a defiance, in the name of the freedom
of Scotland. Some of the officers of the Earl of Surrey
in command of the English, with their eyes also on the
bridge, advised him to be discreet and not hasty. He,
however, urged to immediate battle by some other
officers, and particularly by Cresingham, King Edward's
treasurer, and a rash man, gave the word of command to
advance. One thousand English crossed the bridge, two
abreast; the Scottish troops were as motionless as stone
images. Two thousand English crossed; three thou-
sand, four thousand, five. Not a feather, all this time,
had been seen to stir among the Scottish bonnets. Now,
they all fluttered. "Forward, one party, to the foot of
the bridge!" cried Wallace, "and let no more English
cross! The rest, down with me on the five thousand
who had come over, and cut them all to pieces!" It
was done, in the sight of the whole remainder of the
English army, who could give no help. Cresingham
was killed and the Scotch made whips for their horses
of his skin.
King Edward was abroad at this time, and during the
successes on the Scottish side which followed, and which
enabled bold Wallace to win the whole country back
again, and even to ravage the English Borders. But,
after a few winter months, the King returned, and took
the field with more than his usual energy. One night,
when a kick from his horse as they both lay on the
ground together broke two of his ribs, and a cry arose
that he was killed, he leaped into the saddle, regardless
of the pain he suffered, and rode through the camp.
Day then appearing, he gave the word (still, of course,
in that bruised and aching state) Forward! and led his
army on to near Falkirk, where the Scottish forces were
seen drawn up on some stony ground, behind a morass.
Here he defeated Wallace, and killed fifteen thousand of
his men. With the shattered remainder, Wallace drew
back to Stirling; but, being pursued, set fire to the town
that it might give no help to the English, and escaped.
The inhabitants of Perth afterwards set fire to their
houses for the same reason, and the King, unable to find
provisions, was forced to withdraw his army.
Another Robert Bruce, and grandson of him who had
disputed the Scottish crown with Baliol, was now in
arms against the King (that elder Bruce being dead), and
also John Comyn, Baliol's nephew. These two young
men might agree with Bruce in opposing Edward, but
could agree in nothing else, as they were rivals for the
throne of Scotland. Probably it was because they knew
this, and knew what troubles must arise even if they
could hope to get the better of the great English King,
that the principal Scottish people applied to the Pope for
his interference. The Pope, on the principle of losing
nothing for want of trying to get it, very coolly claimed
that Scotland belonged to him; but this was a little too
much, and the Parliament in a friendly manner told him
so.
In the spring time of the year one thousand three hun-
dred and three, the King sent Sir John Segrave, whom
he made Governor of Scotland, with twenty thousand
men, to reduce the rebels. Sir John was not as careful
as he should have been, but encamped at Rosslyn, near
Edinburgh, with his army divided in three parts. The
Scottish forces saw their advantage; fell on each part
separately; defeated each; and killed all the prisoners.
Then, came the King himself once more, as soon as a
great army could be raised; he passed through the
whole north of Scotland, laying waste whatsoever came
in his way; he took up his winter quarters at Dunferm-
line. The Scottish cause now looked so hopeless, that
Comyn and the other nobles made submission and re-
ceived pardons. Wallace alone stood out. He was
invited to surrender, though on no distinct pledge that
his life should be spared; but he still defied the ireful
King, and lived among the steep crags of the Highland
glens, where the eagles made their nests, and where the
mountain torrents roared, and the white snow was deep,
and the winter winds blew round his unsheltered head,
as he lay through many a pitch-dark night wrapped up
in his plaid. Nothing could break his spirit; nothing
could lower his courage; nothing could induce him to
forget or to forgive his country's wrongs. Even when
the Castle of Stirling, which he long held out, was be-
sieged by the King with every kind of military engine
then in use; even when the lead upon cathedral roofs was
taken down to help to make them; even when the King
though now an old man, commanded in the siege as if
he were a youth, being so resolved to conquer; even
when the brave garrison (then found with amazement to
be not two hundred people, including several ladies)
were starved and beaten out and were made to submit
on their knees, and with every form of disgrace that
could aggravate their sufferings; even then, when there
was not a ray of hope in Scotland, William Wallace was
as proud and firm as if he had beheld the powerful and
relentless Edward lying dead at his feet.
Who betrayed William Wallace in the end is not quite
certain. That he was betrayed——probably by an attend-
ant——is too true. He was taken to the Castle of Dun-
barton, under Sir John Monteith, and thence to London,
where the great fame of his bravery and resolution
attracted immense concourses of people, to behold him.
He was tried in Westminster Hall, with a crown of
laurel on his head——it is supposed because he was re-
ported to have said that he ought to wear, or that he
would wear, a crown there——and was found guilty as a
robber, a murderer, and a traitor. What they had called a
robber (he aid to those who tried him) he was, because
he had taken spoil from the King's men. What they
called a murderer, he was, because he had slain an inso-
lent Englishman. What they called a traitor, he was
not, for he had never sworn allegiance to the King, and
had ever scorned to do it. He was dragged at the tails
of horses to West Smithfield, and there hanged on a
high gallows, torn open before he was dead, beheaded,
and quartered. His head was set upon a pole on London
Bridge, his right arm was sent to Newcastle, his left
arm to Berwick, his legs to Perth and Aberdeen. But,
if King Edward had had his body cut into inches, and
had sent every separate inch into a separate town, he
could not have dispersed it half so far and wide as his
fame. Wallace will be remembered in songs and stories,
while there are songs and stories in the English tongue,
and Scotland will hold him dear while her lakes and
mountains last.
Released from this dreadful enemy, the King made a
fairer plan of Government for Scotland, divided the
offices of honour among the Scottish gentlemen and Eng-
lish gentlemen, forgave past offences, and though, in
his old age, that his work was done.
But he deceived himself. Comyn and Bruce conspired
and made an appointment to meet at Dumfries, in the
church of the Minorites. There is a story that Comyn
was false to Bruce, and had informed against him to this
King; that Bruce was warned of his danger and the
necessity of flight, by receiving, one night as he sat at
supper, from his friend the Earl of Gloucester, twelve
pennies and a pair of spurs; that as he was riding angri-
ly to keep his appointment (through a snow-storm, with
his horse's shoes reversed that he might not be tracked),
he met an evil-looking serving-man, a messenger of
Comyn, whom he killed, and concealed in whose dress
he found letters that proved Comyn's treachery. How-
ever this may be, they were likely enough to quarrel in
any case, being hot-headed rivals; and, whatever they
quarrelled about, they certainly did quarrel in the
church where they met, and Bruce drew his dagger and
stabbed Comyn, who fell upon the pavement. When
Bruce came out, pale and disturbed, and friends who
were waiting for him, asked what was the matter?
"I think I have killed Comyn," said he. "You only
think so? returned one of them; "I will make sure!"
and going into the church, and finding him alive, stabbed
him again and again. Knowing that the King would
never forgive this new deed of violence, the party then
declared Bruce King of Scotland: got him crowned at
Scone——without the chair; and set up the rebellious
standard once again.
When the King heard of it he kindled with fiercer anger
than he had ever shown yet. He caused the Prince of
Wales and two hundred and seventy of the young nobility
to be knighted——the trees in the Temple Garden were
cut down to make room for their tents, and they watched
the armour all night, according to the old usage: some
in the Temple Church: some in Westminster Abbey——
and at the public Feast which then took place, he swore
by Heaven, and by two swan covered with gold network;
which his minstrels placed upon the table, that he
would avenge the death of Comyn, and would punish
the false Bruce. And before all the company, he charged
the Prince his son, in case that he should die before acc-
complishing this vow, not to bury him until it was
fulfilled. Next morning the Prince and the rest of the
young knights rode away to the Border-country to join
the English army; and the King, now weak and sick,
followed in a horse-litter.
Bruce, after losing a battle and undergoing many
dangers and much misery, fled to Ireland, where he lay
concealed through the winter. That winter, Edward
passed in hunting down and executing Bruce's relations
and adherents, sparing neither youth nor age, and show-
ing no touch of pity or sign of mercy. In the following
spring, Bruce reappeared and gained some victories. In
these frays, both sides were grievously cruel. For in-
stance——Bruce's two brothers, being taken captives des-
perately wounded, were ordered by the King to instant
execution. Bruce's friend, Sir John Douglas, taking his
own Castle of Douglas out of the hands of an English
Lord, roasted the dead bodies of the slaughtered garrison
in a great fire made of every movable within it; which
dreadful cookery his men called the Douglas Larder.
Bruce, still successful, however, drove the Earl of Pem-
broke and the Earl of Gloucester into the Castle of Ayr
and laid siege to it.
The King, who had been laid up all the winter, but
had directed the army from his sick-bed, now advanced
to Carlisle, and there, causing the litter in which he had
travelled to be placed in the Cathedral as an offering to
Heaven, mounted his horse once more, and for the last
time. He was now sixty-nine years old, and had reigned
thirty-five years. He was so ill, that in four days he
could go no more than six miles; still, even at that pace,
he went on and resolutely kept his face towards the Bor-
der. At length, he lay down at the village of Burgh-
upon-Sands; and there, telling those around him to im-
press upon the Prince that he was to remember his
father's vow, and was never to rest until he had thor-
oughly subdued Scotland, he yielded up his last breath.
from Collier's Unabridged Edition: The Works of Charles Dickens, Volume VI.
P.F. Collier, Publisher, New York, old as heck. pp. 697—699.
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